


Small Mercies

by ancalime8301



Series: Spencer Stories [5]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle, The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Genre: Cats, Community: watsons_woes, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 21:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1998876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancalime8301/pseuds/ancalime8301
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer has an encounter with a mouse in the alley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Mercies

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the watsons_woes JWP day 21 [prompt](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/1150828.html): _Constrained Compassion. have a character help someone else who would normally be distanced from that character by some social or economic factor: race, religion, country of origin/allegiance, vegetarianism…_

I was nearly home after patrolling my domain when I heard another cat playing with a mouse in the alley behind the house. In _my_ alley. I went to investigate, determined to chase the other cat out of my territory and pleased by the prospect of a snack I didn't have to find myself.

The intruding cat was gangly and young, given to playing with his food rather than eating it. I watched him toy with the plump, clothed mouse for a few moments before pouncing and giving him a thorough thrashing. Ordinarily I would have finished the job with the mouse before sending the other cat on his way, but the impudent kitten did not learn his lesson the first time I separated him from his prey, so I had to send him scurrying away before turning my attention to the cowering mouse. The youngster had at least done well in cornering him where he could not escape.

I took a deep sniff as I crouched and readied myself for a tasty morsel; the mouse smelled of fear and, oddly, of the rooms where the two-legged ones lived. Startled, I padded closer until I could put my nose almost against him, well aware that I might be bitten for my trouble. He truly did smell of home and I drew back, suddenly uncertain. "How long have you lived here?" I demanded, some part of me unwilling to finish him off--he hadn't, after all, done anything to attract my attention. Unlike the mice in the pantry; they deserved what they got.

"Nearly a year," the mouse said, standing up straight and proud.

I had to admire a mouse with guts enough to face a cat in that manner, and one stealthy enough to live in my house for almost a year without being caught. "Don't let me catch you where you shouldn't be, or I'll have to teach you a lesson," I warned, sitting down a sufficient distance away that he could scuttle off to his hole.

"Thank you, kind cat," he said breathlessly, when he realized I was letting him go. "If you should ever need stitches or anything of the sort, you know where to find me!" He held up the bag in his paw, then scurried off.

I leisurely made my way into the house through the back door, and wondered if I'd ever see him again.


End file.
